


Appearances Can Be Deceiving

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [39]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Eggpreg, Extremely Dubious Consent, Impregnation, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Manhandling, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oviposition, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnant Stiles Stilinski, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sounding, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Top Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 16:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: When Stiles tries to summon a Lovecraftian monster, he is disappointed when what he gets is an ordinary man. But not all is as it seems. Derek needs someone to bear his young, and the little human who summoned him is the perfect candidate.





	Appearances Can Be Deceiving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tetractys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tetractys/gifts).



> As always with this series, don't judge me for the depravity I have written…

Stiles shakes his arms out to expel some nervous energy. He really shouldn't be doing this, but he doesn't feel he has any other choice. His last year of education had gone extremely well and he was consistently the best out of all his fellow students…right up until a month ago. Out of nowhere, another student surpassed him and put him in second place, which has been a tough pill to swallow.

So Stiles won't swallow it.

Conjuring has always been Stiles' weakest area of magic, the one that holds him back from regaining his rightful position. Doing what he is about to do will push him over the edge and prove to his teachers that he's really the strongest, most talented student ever to walk the halls. Perhaps he should have better control of his ego, but he doesn't and so, after much research and sneaking into the forbidden section of the school library, Stiles had found the perfect way to kill two birds with one stone—to earn back his rightful spot, and to stick it to Lydia Martin, with her stupid hair, fantastic chest and sinfully painted lips. He's going to summon an eldritch creature from another dimension. It should be magic way above his pay grade, but he knows he can do it.

Failure isn't an option, so Stiles double-checks everything he has done to prepare. He glances back and forth between the book he'd 'borrowed' from the library and the symbol he'd painted on the hardwood floor of his bedroom, making sure that no swirling line is drawn haphazardly and that the candles are all placed equidistant around the white circle on the outside.

When he's sure he has done everything correctly, Stiles sets down the book and taps into the magic that is always present inside of his chest. It's like another living being, warm and pulsating just behind his sternum. As he talks to it, coaxing it from its home, it flows out through his veins until he feels it in his extremities and he is sure it will do his bidding. He has never had a problem getting his magic to work with him, unlike several of his peers. His confidence grows, replacing his nervousness until there isn't a doubt in his mind that he will succeed.

It's a heady feeling, and Stiles grins to himself as he steps into place next to the circle, holds out his palms and begins the chant.

From the very first word, the symbol glows bright white and the small flames at the tip of each candle wick get much taller, almost reaching Stiles' waist. He keeps speaking the chant until he reaches the final line, at which point he allows all of his magic to flow into the symbol to create a portal. All at once, the candles extinguish, the symbol stops glowing and the lamp on Stiles' bedside table flickers out, leaving him in absolute darkness.

At first, Stiles fears that he has failed to summon anything at all, but then he senses another being in the room with him. He stands there and tries to figure out what it is without his sight, relying entirely on the magic that's back in his veins, but he keeps getting conflicting impressions. Just as he begins to get frustrated, the lights come back on and Stiles finally lays eyes on the creature he has called forth. Only, it isn't a creature at all.

Stiles frowns. "What the hell?"

Right in the middle of the symbol is a naked man. He's incredibly attractive, but there's nothing about him that's out of the ordinary.

Shit.

He failed.

With a defeated sigh, Stiles crosses his arms, tamps down his disappointment and appraises the strange man. He is about the same height as Stiles. He has short dark hair on his head, pretty yet masculine features and a strong jaw framed by a surprisingly neat beard. He stares back at Stiles with hazel eyes that sparkle with intelligence that doesn't feel quite human, despite all other appearances. His shoulders are broad and his muscular chest has a nice smattering of fine dark hair that looks soft as hell. His nipples are pebbled, and a trail of more hair runs down from his navel to join the curls around a cock that's intimidating even while soft. His legs and arms are powerful, hairy and just as muscular as the rest of him.

"Well, I guess this wasn't a _total_ failure," Stiles murmurs. He didn't get some powerful creature, but a sexy-as-all-get-out man is a decent consolation prize.

"Who are you?" the man asks him, tilting his head to the side. The movement is slow and feels almost mechanical.

Stiles is startled, having not expected the man to speak. "You can talk?"

The man just blinks at him, awaiting a response.

"My name's Stiles. What about you?"

"You could not pronounce my name," the man responds, straightening his neck again.

"Well, I have to have something to call you." Stiles taps his index finger against his chin while he thinks. He recalls a book series he'd loved as a kid. The description the author gave the main character seems to match the strange man well enough. "I'll call you Derek."

"If you wish."

"You like that name?"

"It does not matter to me."

"Then what does?"

* * *

Derek, as Stiles has named him, doesn't respond to the last question. He simply assesses Stiles and uses the knowledge his people have gathered of other universes over the centuries to deduce that he is on Earth and Stiles is a human male. Interesting.

And fortuitous.

Back in Derek's world, the time for breeding was rapidly approaching, and the others in his clutch had all found partners with whom they could procreate. But Derek hadn't. It was a point of sadness for him, as it meant he would go through many hours of desperate need that would ultimately go unmet. If he had to compare it to anything, he would say it's similar to what the canines and felines in Stiles' world go through in their breeding process, only a lot more complicated.

When Derek had felt the tug calling him into this room, he hadn't been happy to be disturbed from his brooding, and then he'd been amazed by the strange body he found himself in. But, as he finishes his assessment of Stiles, he can tell that the human will be perfect to bear his young. His displeasure and amazement are replaced by gratitude. Stiles doesn't know it yet, but Derek can see the sexual interest in his eyes and can't wait for the need to overcome him so that they can both fulfil their desires. Judging by the restlessness he can feel, it won't be long.

"So you're not talking now?" Stiles asks him, frowning.

Derek remains silent. He doesn't see the need to speak any further.

"Fine…whatever."

Stiles turns away from him, opens a drawer in his dresser and extracts two pairs of sweatpants. He tosses one of them at Derek, who doesn't so much as attempt to catch them, before he walks toward another room. "Stay," he says sternly, just before he walks through the door and shuts it behind him, leaving Derek by himself.

While the human is gone, Derek moves from his spot in the centre of the symbol painted on the floor and wanders around the bedroom, searching for clues as to who the other future parent of his offspring is. He finds a lot of magic paraphernalia—candles, more than the ones on the floor; old tomes; jars of different ingredients. It's enough for him to know that Stiles isn't just the average practitioner. There is also a photo frame on the bedside table. The photograph inside features who he guesses is a younger version of Stiles, and two adults. They all have huge grins on their faces. Stiles' grin matches the adult male's, while the colour of his eyes matches the female's.

His parents, then.

Derek continues his inspection until the door opens again and Stiles steps back inside the bedroom. The clothes he was wearing are gone, replaced by the sweatpants he'd taken with him. When he sees that Derek has left the other pair where they fell on the floor, he rolls his eyes. "You were supposed to put those on, y'know."

Derek doesn't pick up the sweatpants. He has no interest in covering himself.

Honestly…humans and their strange concepts of modesty.

"Alright, stay in your birthday suit for all I care," Stiles says dismissively. He approaches the bed and climbs beneath the sheets. "Don't leave the room. I'm too tired right now and I need to give my magic a chance to recover, so I'll figure out how to send you back to wherever you're from tomorrow." He flicks off the lamp on his bedside table and then switches it right back on to point his index finger at Derek. "I mean it. _Stay_."

Derek just stares, not caring that he obviously unnerves the human. He'll learn.

Stiles switches off the light again and this time leaves it off. "And don't make too much noise. If you wake me up prematurely, I'm gonna be pissed."

He rolls over so that his back is to Derek, and soon enough the room is filled with the sound of his quiet snores.

While he waits for his body to tell him that it's time, Derek watches Stiles sleep. "You will be perfect, I just know it," he whispers. "And soon, you will know it too."

* * *

Too soon, Stiles feels himself being pulled out of the dream he'd been having and returning to the land of the living. It's getting light outside, but not enough that he needs to get up yet. He grumbles out of protest and shivers. He must have kicked the covers away in his sleep. His mind still sluggish, he tries to move to pull them back up and then roll over so that he can catch some more Z's while he has the time, but he is somehow stuck. His arms and legs are all held immobile by something incredibly strong. He can't even move them an inch.

His eyes snapping open, Stiles turns his head to look at his right wrist and finds the end of something thick and slimy wrapped around it. It's the same with his other wrist and both of his ankles.

Tentacles. What?

Stiles follows them with his eyes to the foot of his bed, where his sheets are pooled. And there, standing with his staring eyes just as creepy as before, is Derek. The bearded man is still naked, but a sheen of sweat covers his hirsute skin and there is something different about his body. Stiles can't comprehend what he is seeing at first, but after a minute he realises that the tentacles are coming from Derek. In the dim sunlight shining through the curtains, he can't quite make out how, but there is no doubt in Stiles' mind. Evidently there is more to Derek than met his eye last night. When did he summon? He gets the impression that he is in way over his head.

Damn his hubris.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaims, struggling to extricate himself.

"Remain calm," Derek tells him, his lips quirking up at the sides like he finds the fighting highly amusing.

"Let go of me!" Stiles commands, quickly panting. He can't get free, no matter how hard he tries.

Derek shakes his head. "I will not. We are not done. We have yet to even start."

"Start what?"

"I still have to breed with you, of course. I have decided that you will make a fine mate."

His eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, Stiles goes limp out of shock. He lies there for a few seconds, catching his breath, and then he renews his struggles and this time taps into his magic in hopes that it will do what his physical body can't. But just as he has got in touch with it, another tentacle comes out of nowhere and attaches itself to the side of Stiles' neck. Stiles feels something sharp prick his skin, and then a weird floaty feeling overcomes him. He can't reach his magic anymore, and it's like his muscles have decided to give up.

Whatever Derek injected him with apparently has a similar effect to a potent muscle relaxant.

"Not cool, dude…" he murmurs. "This is all feeling very dubious consent-y."

Derek doesn't say anything else, and Stiles can't do anything as the tentacles lift him easily off of his mattress and hold him suspended in the air. Derek takes a few steps back and then lowers Stiles so that he is upright and his feet just miss the floor, making them face-to-face.

Up this close, where the tentacles are coming from isn't any clearer, but Stiles can't find it in himself to worry about it anymore. There must be something else to whatever drug is now in his system, because as Derek reaches up and strokes the back of his hand down the side of Stiles' face, Stiles doesn't recoil but actually leans into it. Something in him craves Derek's touch. He no longer wishes to be free of the tentacles but actually enjoys the feeling they give him. He is restrained, but the loss of control makes him feel somehow safe. Derek is there and will take care of everything. All Stiles has to do is be a good mate and do what he is told, and everything will be okay.

Such thoughts should be deeply concerning, but Stiles just feels…excitement.

More tentacles make their presence known then. They work their way beneath the waistband of Stiles' sweatpants and pull them down his legs until they fall into a pile of fabric on the floor and he is equally as naked as Derek. Stiles watches with hooded eyes as Derek brings him even closer so that their faces are just inches apart and he can see the otherworldly colours that swirl in his eyes; green…purple…cyan. How had Stiles ever thought that Derek wasn't some powerful creature from another universe? No human's eyes could shine like that.

"There you go," Derek says, moving his hand from Stiles' face to stroke over his neck and collarbone. "Just give in. Your body will know what to do."

The tentacles that had removed Stiles' sweatpants make their return. One of them wraps itself around Stiles' cock and strokes it to hardness, while the other one bypasses Derek's hand and prods at Stiles' closed lips. The teenager could resist, could keep his mouth firmly shut, but he doesn't want to. He wants to welcome the tentacle inside, so he parts his lips on a sigh and his eyes flutter closed when it slides inside and rests heavy on his tongue.

The taste is indescribable. He supposes that's to be expected because Derek is from another world and therefore there would be no chance he would have tasted something like him before. It's wonderful, though, so much so that he actually begins sucking on the end of the tentacle, enjoying the silken texture of its surface. Derek moans then, so Stiles cracks his eyes open to look at him. Derek stares right back, the unnatural colours of his eyes even brighter than they were seconds earlier.

"Do you like that?" Derek asks him breathlessly.

Stiles can only hum his approval, not looking away as he takes more of the tentacle in his mouth.

It's enough for Derek to smile at him, and already Stiles knows he'd do anything to keep seeing that smile. "Good," the bearded man says. "Keep doing that while I prepare you, okay?"

Stiles just hums again.

More tentacles—seriously, how many does Derek have?—coil around his knees, and together with the ones still around his ankles they reposition his legs so that they are curled up in the air and his ass is exposed. There is no way to mistake what's about to happen. Even if there were, Stiles has seen enough hentai to be left with no doubt in his mind, but like the tentacle in his mouth, he desperately wants to feel one in his virgin hole, to feel it reaching deep inside his body like it was meant to be there all along. Under the influence of the drug that is Derek, Stiles would stake everything he is and everything he has on that being exactly the case.

Stiles' want is fulfilled when he feels a tentacle prodding at his entrance. Derek doesn't force it inside right away but pushes gently and swirls the end around Stiles' rim, using its natural secretions to lube him up. Soon enough, while he still sucks happily on the tentacle in his mouth, Stiles feels the first few inches of the other slip inside of his body. He doesn't tense up. The drug in his system won't let him, so he doesn't feel any pain as Derek thrusts it shallowly in and out a few times, allowing Stiles to get used to having something inside of him.

A bout of neediness washing over him, Stiles mumbles, "More," around the first tentacle and immediately gets his wish. More than.

Both tentacles slip deep inside, the one in his mouth nudging the back of his throat and the one in his ass widening as Derek feeds him another few inches. He must have at least eight in him already, and something tells Stiles that he is going to have a lot more by the time Derek is through with him.

He looks forward to taking every one, to proving that, yes, he _will_ make a fine mate.

Things stay that way for several minutes. Stiles hangs there, suspended in the air, and finally gets his body to respond to his whims. He rocks his hips lazily, pushing back onto the tentacle in his ass and then forward into the one around his weeping cock. Dazedly, he wonders why his body is suddenly obeying him, and it doesn't take him long to come up with a theory. His muscles are useless when he wants to use them to break out of Derek's hold and stop what the man—or whatever he is—is doing to him. But when he wants to participate, he can move.

"Do you think you are ready for another?" Derek asks him eventually.

Stiles blinks blearily at him. "Hmm?"

Seconds later, he feels another tentacle nudging at his hole and moans. He nods eagerly. Yes. He wants more. He _needs_ more, to be filled so full he'll burst.

One tentacle becomes two, then three, and then four as Derek gives his needy ass what it craves. He feels stuffed and can't stop moaning as the tentacles wiggle around inside of him, creating space for what's to come. Tears leak from his eyes, but they are born of pleasure and not from pain. He has never felt so good before, and he never wants it to end.

Of course, as soon as Stiles thinks that, it does.

Derek withdraws all four of the tentacles from Stiles' ass until just the tips are hooked inside his stretched rim, holding him open. The one in his mouth retreats too.

"Wha—?" Stiles asks, confused. He stares at Derek like he has been betrayed.

"It is time," Derek tells him.

He is sweatier than ever, his skin glistening as the sun gets brighter outside. When he looks down the length of his own body, Stiles does the same and spots Derek's cock sticking out from the nest of dark curls at the base. It's huge—hard and long and _thick_ —and Stiles longs to feel it inside of him like the tentacles. Beneath it, Derek's hairy balls are swollen and oddly misshapen, not like human testicles at all. Stiles can't figure out why, but he supposes it doesn't really matter. Derek knows what to do, so he stops worrying and puts his trust back in him.

Derek steps closer and smoothly inserts every inch of his cock into Stiles' hole. It goes in easily because the tentacles did their job well, and then he starts thrusting at a brisk pace.

Stiles reflexively clenches his hands where they remain suspended above him and tips his head back, relishing the euphoria of having Derek inside him. He has never been fucked before. The only sexual experience he has had was in the backseat of a car with a girl, and he'd barely got inside her before he came. This is nothing like that. It's so much better. The way Derek fucks him reeks of confidence and strength, like he knows exactly what he is doing. He probably does, or maybe he's just following instinct. Whatever the answer, Stiles knows that sex has been ruined for him forever.

No one will affect him like Derek, he is certain.

As Derek keeps fucking him, hands gripping Stiles' hips hard enough to leave bruises, another tentacle creeps up Stiles' leg to meet the one wrapped around his cock. It's the thinnest one, and at the end Stiles spots some sort of opening before it wriggles its way to the slit of his cock and pushes inside. The teenager whimpers as he feels it going down his urethra. It's such an alien sensation, nothing he ever thought he would experience, and it comes as the biggest shock yet. But then, when it brushes against something deep in his dick, the discomfort turns into white-hot pleasure that has fireworks appearing behind Stiles' eyelids.

He opens his mouth to scream, but the tentacle he'd been sucking on is back before he can release the sound and likely alert others in the building to what's going on. He is glad for Derek's quick thinking, because this is private. It's for no one else's eyes, and if anything were to happen to Derek, Stiles honestly believes it would kill him.

So no screaming.

Soon, Derek's thrusts become jerky and almost clumsy. He gets rougher, and Stiles' hipbones protest as Derek grips them even harder. Derek warns him that it's time, and then he sinks in to the hilt and stays there as something wider works its way into Stiles' hole. At first, the mage thinks Derek is inserting a tentacle back inside, but then the wide thing slips past his rim and finds its way deep up in his guts. It's not a tentacle, that's for sure, and it's not the only one. More of them come, so many that Stiles loses count very quickly. All he can do is whine as each one makes him feel fuller and fuller, stretching out his belly until it's nice and round. It looks like he's seven or eight months pregnant, and it's this realisation that makes him recall what Derek had said earlier.

_"I still have to breed with you, of course."_

Stiles doesn't have a womb or ovaries or any of that stuff, and he is sure Derek isn't stupid enough to think that he does.

Eggs.

The word flits into Stiles' mind and doesn't leave. It's the only explanation that makes sense. Every time he feels Derek pump something inside his body, it's another egg.

Stiles isn't freaked out by this at all, which is just par for the course at this point. He's actually proud to take each of Derek's eggs inside of himself, to know that they will be there for however long it takes them to be ready, and Stiles will take good care of them while he serves as their incubator.

When the last egg is inside, Derek pulls his cock out of Stiles' ass and replaces it with a tentacle. He doesn't fuck him with it but presses it purposefully up against his prostate with the obvious intent of making him come. Combined with the tentacle still stroking over his own cock and the thinner one lodged inside of his urethra, it doesn't take long at all for him to blow his load. When it happens, his vision whites out and he bites down on the tentacle in his mouth before he can stop himself. Through his pleasure, he is concerned that he has damaged his new mate, but his teeth don't pierce the slimy skin and Derek doesn't remove the tentacle, so he must be alright.

His orgasm over now, Stiles watches with sleepy eyes as Derek removes the tentacle in his slit and brings it down to his ass. Before it's out of sight, Stiles notes that it looks bigger than before. It bulges strangely a few inches down.

"I have to fertilise our clutch," Derek explains to him. "I will use your semen to do so."

That makes sense, Stiles thinks. A weird sort of sense, but a sense all the same.

When it's done, Derek carries Stiles back over to the bed and lays him down on it on his back. His stomach is still swollen, and after Derek finally lets him go, the tentacles that have been twined around his wrists and ankles slithering away, Stiles rubs a hand curiously over the taut, distended skin.

"You look beautiful," Derek says, kneeling beside him on the bed.

"How long?" Stiles asks him, close to falling asleep again now that their mating is done.

"Four months is the average, but it depends on the size of the clutch. Ours is particularly large, so it will likely be five months before they are ready to be birthed."

Stiles smacks his lips and reaches for Derek with his other hand. He needs the father of their future offspring to be closer. "Cool…"

"Sleep, my mate," Derek orders him. He lies down beside Stiles and wraps him up in his arms and all of his tentacles. It's like he is cocooning him.

"Mmm…okay."

"When you wake, we will be back home, and I will introduce you to my family."

Stiles is out like a light, already forgetting about his previous life. Lydia Martin can be Number One for all he cares. All that matters to him is the man spooning him and the eggs in his belly.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was definitely different from anything else I've written before. I can't say I didn't enjoy it, though. XD I'd like to say a huge thank you to Tetractys for giving me this prompt. :) I hope it was close enough to what you wanted. I know I ended up making Stiles more willing than you probably intended me to, but I hope you thought it was still fucked up enough because his compliance was a product of the drug Derek gave him and not because of his real emotions.
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, in which Derek becomes Stiles' roommate and develops a come fetish when he happens across a pair of Stiles' come-stained boxers. What will happen when Stiles cottons on? Top!Stiles/bottom!Derek.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


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